It's a big day.
Today we honor Martin Luther King, Jr. A man who changed history. And tomorrow we will celebrate a man, Barack Obama, who is making history.
But today, for me, is a big day because my father, Ron Beecher, who passed away in 1984 would have been 70 years old today.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
I miss you.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Just who will I be?
I'm now 42 and I'm an ugly exerciser.
On my birthday I went to the gym. I've been doing interval training and vacillate between the elliptical (which I'm learning to really like), the bike (which I, frankly, can't stand) and the treadmill (which is my old friend).
I am dressed in my mom's sweatpants which are cropped and a nod to the 80F temperature out today, my husband's XXL "Chief's" grey T-shirt and my own white and pink Finest Invitations hat. Runway bound, I am not. I have on no makeup and when I glance in the mirror to my right, I see that my black sweatpants have a white smear on the side. "Maybe from the cool whip last night...?" I wonder and keep walking.
About 22 minutes into my program, my complete opposite commandeers the treadmill next to me. She's everything I'm not. She's petite, her dark curly hair is orderly and she proceeds to crank that baby up to 6.5 and starts to run. She doesn't sweat, she glistens. For God's sake, she even brought her own towel.
For years, I have compared myself to others. And frequently, I wind up falling short. My girlfriend in TC has her house pulled together, my engineer friend cooks homemade meals for her family every night, my sister is paid thousands to speak for an hour. I rarely look at the whole picture when comparing. I just pull out those things that I fall short on and look at those.
I know this about myself.
And here, at the brand new age of 42, I'm doing it again. Comparing myself to this woman on the neighboring treadmill and coming up short.
"I'm sick of this" I think.
"I am my own woman" I say to myself.
"I have lots of great qualities" I think encouragingly.
"It doesn't have to be a contest all the time!" I plead with myself.
"You are on the treadmill"
"You are working out!"
"You are a great person!"
I am mollified and encouraged. I no longer glance over at her speed, or her time. I am content with my own workout, my own image, my own life.
I smile.
And in the next second, my treadmill neighbor picks up her towel and honkingly blows her nose in it.
I chuckle to myself and think "I win".
On my birthday I went to the gym. I've been doing interval training and vacillate between the elliptical (which I'm learning to really like), the bike (which I, frankly, can't stand) and the treadmill (which is my old friend).
I am dressed in my mom's sweatpants which are cropped and a nod to the 80F temperature out today, my husband's XXL "Chief's" grey T-shirt and my own white and pink Finest Invitations hat. Runway bound, I am not. I have on no makeup and when I glance in the mirror to my right, I see that my black sweatpants have a white smear on the side. "Maybe from the cool whip last night...?" I wonder and keep walking.
About 22 minutes into my program, my complete opposite commandeers the treadmill next to me. She's everything I'm not. She's petite, her dark curly hair is orderly and she proceeds to crank that baby up to 6.5 and starts to run. She doesn't sweat, she glistens. For God's sake, she even brought her own towel.
For years, I have compared myself to others. And frequently, I wind up falling short. My girlfriend in TC has her house pulled together, my engineer friend cooks homemade meals for her family every night, my sister is paid thousands to speak for an hour. I rarely look at the whole picture when comparing. I just pull out those things that I fall short on and look at those.
I know this about myself.
And here, at the brand new age of 42, I'm doing it again. Comparing myself to this woman on the neighboring treadmill and coming up short.
"I'm sick of this" I think.
"I am my own woman" I say to myself.
"I have lots of great qualities" I think encouragingly.
"It doesn't have to be a contest all the time!" I plead with myself.
"You are on the treadmill"
"You are working out!"
"You are a great person!"
I am mollified and encouraged. I no longer glance over at her speed, or her time. I am content with my own workout, my own image, my own life.
I smile.
And in the next second, my treadmill neighbor picks up her towel and honkingly blows her nose in it.
I chuckle to myself and think "I win".
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Sunny thoughts
It was cloudy and rainy and, franky, pretty gross out yesterday. But you know what I got to thinking? It was actually sunny out. Really, it was. Just not where I could see it.
Just because it was rainy didn't mean the sun wasn't still shining...there was just a huge layer of clouds between the sun and me.
It felt a little less gross after that. And a little less lonely.
Just because it was rainy didn't mean the sun wasn't still shining...there was just a huge layer of clouds between the sun and me.
It felt a little less gross after that. And a little less lonely.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Help, I need someone
Ok, I don't get it. What is WITH customer service people these days. I mean really. I hate to sound like my mother (who frequently bemoans her residence in Customer Service Hell) but honestly.
People, it's very simple: MAKE IT EASY FOR PEOPLE TO DO BUSINESS WITH YOU.
That's it.
Well, one other thing: Quit acting like the customer is stupid. Frankly, you're right. One of us doesn't get it...
Grrr...
People, it's very simple: MAKE IT EASY FOR PEOPLE TO DO BUSINESS WITH YOU.
That's it.
Well, one other thing: Quit acting like the customer is stupid. Frankly, you're right. One of us doesn't get it...
Grrr...
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Great lesons in film...er...lessons
National Treasure is on. I love that movie. My husband teases me that I watch it so much. The other day I was watching it in the bedroom.
"Why do you like that movie so much?", he came in and asked.
"It's a mystery!", I enthusiastically replied.
"Not by now it's not." he responded dryly.
The man has a point.
Regardless, I love the movie. Today, for the first time, I logged on and checked out the Declaration of Independence. Maybe voting has put me in a patriotic state of mind...but I wanted to see for myself what the document said.
It is very cool. And if you haven't read it since the 3rd grade (like me), then go find it now and read it again.
And here's something I realy didn't know... there's a Rough Draft. Really. I was shocked. I don't know why... I guess I just thought it is such a great document that it just wrote itself.
Which is just silly.
But, it's a great lesson for me. Great documents don't just happen without re-writes, revisions and re-do's so why do I think great lives just happen.
I'm going to do more that I'm not certain about. I'm going to stop waiting for the perfect word, perfect plans. I'm going to get it down on paper, start doing it. Then revise it. Lots of things get edited. Few things are perfect the first go-around.
What a great lesson. Now I ask you? What's not to love about that movie?
"Why do you like that movie so much?", he came in and asked.
"It's a mystery!", I enthusiastically replied.
"Not by now it's not." he responded dryly.
The man has a point.
Regardless, I love the movie. Today, for the first time, I logged on and checked out the Declaration of Independence. Maybe voting has put me in a patriotic state of mind...but I wanted to see for myself what the document said.
It is very cool. And if you haven't read it since the 3rd grade (like me), then go find it now and read it again.
And here's something I realy didn't know... there's a Rough Draft. Really. I was shocked. I don't know why... I guess I just thought it is such a great document that it just wrote itself.
Which is just silly.
But, it's a great lesson for me. Great documents don't just happen without re-writes, revisions and re-do's so why do I think great lives just happen.
I'm going to do more that I'm not certain about. I'm going to stop waiting for the perfect word, perfect plans. I'm going to get it down on paper, start doing it. Then revise it. Lots of things get edited. Few things are perfect the first go-around.
What a great lesson. Now I ask you? What's not to love about that movie?
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Another reflection
There's a pattern in my life. Maybe in yours too. I seem to run into some difficult people. I mean just those types that can push my buttons. WHAMMO! Zero to pissed off in six seconds.
I made a list today of the names. It stretches back to 1990. Geepers that's a list. Funny thing is...they ARE all difficult people. Even the most objective person would say "Yep, that guy/gal's a jerk. No doubt about it." There are men and women on there, young, old...a real all inclusive list. No discriminating. Was there a theme? Yeah, I guess. They all didn't understand or appreciate something they had. They should have gotten a point, figured something out, communicated better...
One lady just didn't understand business and would frequently screw up plans we would make;
One guy had to do my review, this would have been a boss I once had, and what a joke. I was ticked before the meeting. He didn't have a clue how to lead, let alone figure out if I knew what I was doing;
This other guy used to write the most arrogant emails. Really, really arrogant. The kind that just come right off the screen, grabs your guts and starts knot-tying. Man, I hated that guy.
You've probably got a similar list. Don't we all have people in our lives that are tough to deal with? So why am I so surprised when I run into "these kind of people". They are out there. We all know they're out there. Easy to spot.
I was sitting at a dinner one time with clients. It was a nice dinner. Upscale restaurant, lots of utensils all with special uses, linen napkins... A lady in the next room over caught my eye. She had long curly hair, like me. Sitting at a table full of suits, like me. What it took a few seconds to figure out was, it was me. Just a reflection from the mirror. An image bouncing back at me. Unrecognizable at first. But, clearly me. Once I took a minute I could recognize myself in a sea of others.
I'm looking at this list and thinking about that dinner and, man, my stomach is really in knots now.
I made a list today of the names. It stretches back to 1990. Geepers that's a list. Funny thing is...they ARE all difficult people. Even the most objective person would say "Yep, that guy/gal's a jerk. No doubt about it." There are men and women on there, young, old...a real all inclusive list. No discriminating. Was there a theme? Yeah, I guess. They all didn't understand or appreciate something they had. They should have gotten a point, figured something out, communicated better...
One lady just didn't understand business and would frequently screw up plans we would make;
One guy had to do my review, this would have been a boss I once had, and what a joke. I was ticked before the meeting. He didn't have a clue how to lead, let alone figure out if I knew what I was doing;
This other guy used to write the most arrogant emails. Really, really arrogant. The kind that just come right off the screen, grabs your guts and starts knot-tying. Man, I hated that guy.
You've probably got a similar list. Don't we all have people in our lives that are tough to deal with? So why am I so surprised when I run into "these kind of people". They are out there. We all know they're out there. Easy to spot.
I was sitting at a dinner one time with clients. It was a nice dinner. Upscale restaurant, lots of utensils all with special uses, linen napkins... A lady in the next room over caught my eye. She had long curly hair, like me. Sitting at a table full of suits, like me. What it took a few seconds to figure out was, it was me. Just a reflection from the mirror. An image bouncing back at me. Unrecognizable at first. But, clearly me. Once I took a minute I could recognize myself in a sea of others.
I'm looking at this list and thinking about that dinner and, man, my stomach is really in knots now.
Friday, November 7, 2008
This is nuts
I read an article today about blame. It said the smart person looks at the situation and rather than figuring out who to blame says "What needs to be done?" And then, of course, does that rather than standing around deciding who's at fault.
We had to cut down a tree in my backyard this week. It seemed like the right thing to do. It being dead and all. And while we were at it, we took advantage of having 8 guys out here to go ahead and take down the GIGANTORE cottonwood tree (read:weed) that had overcome most of the yard.
These cottonwoods are not really trees as explained to me by an arborist in a wife-beater t-shirt but rather weeds left alone grown out of control. This is a subject for another post for sure.
It seemed like the right thing to do.
It causes a bunch of cottony like bunk twice a year to get everywhere (typically right after we wash the outside of the house and all the windows);
It has more leaves then are physically rake-able in one afternoon;
I could go on and on... It just didn't seem smart letting this treeweed continue to grow and overtake who knows how much more of our yard.
So we had them take it down.
This morning there are two squirrels sitting on our fence looking at where the tree used to be. I am sick. They look like they are thinking "What happened to our tree?" "Where is our home, our food for the winter?" "Whose idea was this?!?"
In reality, I imagine they are not thinking this at all. They aren't like humans. They are probably resting while rebuilding their next home. They do what good, mature humans do. They aren't looking for someone to blame. They are seeing what needs to be done and doing it.
It still makes me sick, though and as I stare out at the squirrels I can't believe I let my husband and that stupid tree guy talk me into this.
We had to cut down a tree in my backyard this week. It seemed like the right thing to do. It being dead and all. And while we were at it, we took advantage of having 8 guys out here to go ahead and take down the GIGANTORE cottonwood tree (read:weed) that had overcome most of the yard.
These cottonwoods are not really trees as explained to me by an arborist in a wife-beater t-shirt but rather weeds left alone grown out of control. This is a subject for another post for sure.
It seemed like the right thing to do.
It causes a bunch of cottony like bunk twice a year to get everywhere (typically right after we wash the outside of the house and all the windows);
It has more leaves then are physically rake-able in one afternoon;
I could go on and on... It just didn't seem smart letting this treeweed continue to grow and overtake who knows how much more of our yard.
So we had them take it down.
This morning there are two squirrels sitting on our fence looking at where the tree used to be. I am sick. They look like they are thinking "What happened to our tree?" "Where is our home, our food for the winter?" "Whose idea was this?!?"
In reality, I imagine they are not thinking this at all. They aren't like humans. They are probably resting while rebuilding their next home. They do what good, mature humans do. They aren't looking for someone to blame. They are seeing what needs to be done and doing it.
It still makes me sick, though and as I stare out at the squirrels I can't believe I let my husband and that stupid tree guy talk me into this.
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